Chemistry at the Cafe with Beatrice

You show up to one of the campus cafes early in the afternoon, grabbing a table by the long glass windows. The sunshine feels great on your face, and it soon illuminates Beatrice’s glowing smile as she pops in a minute later. She’s dressed in darker shades today, a long dress and stylish flats giving her a modest-yet-sexy look that you’re into.

“Alex! Um… give me a second? Can I get some coffee?” she asks.

“I’ve already got mine, go ahead,” you say, waving her towards the counter.

Beatrice comes back a minute later with some sugary drink that has swirls of vanilla in it, topped with a generous amount of whipped cream. She sits down in the seat opposite yours and begins pulling her chemistry notes out of her backpack.

“Did you get a coffee or did you get dessert?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at the drink.

“I like the sugar,” she says defensively, taking a sip of her ‘coffee.’

You smile at the little white moustache that the cream leaves on her lips, and say: “Hey, I’m not judging. It doesn’t look half bad.”

“You… do you want a taste?” Beatrice asks hesitantly, tipping her plastic cup towards you.

“Sure,” you laugh, picking it up. You take an experimental sip, tasting the nectary sweet of the sugar mixed into the coffee, the traditional bitterness little more than an afterthought, and then you take a bigger drink, enjoying the chill and the sugar.

“What’d you think?” she asks, leaning forwards expectantly. “Was it good? It’s not too girly or sweet or...”

“I’ll tell you after we’re done studying,” you smile coyly. “It would be too distracting otherwise.”

“So you didn’t like it,” Beatrice sighs, taking a long sip from her drink. She looks down into it, lost in her thoughts. She licks her lips, and then looks back up at you, still frowning.

“On the contrary,” you say, briefly resting a hand on hers. “But work first. Answers later.”

She gives you a disbelieving look, but eventually nods, flipping open her notes.

“I was thinking that maybe we could review some of the stuff in class? Starting from the first lecture, on atomic and molecular structure?” she asks, shifting slightly in her seat.

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, giving her a confident smile. “But I haven’t exactly been taking great notes in class, so we’re going to have to share yours.”

“Oh… okay!” Beatrice says, as you pull your chair over next to hers.

The two of you huddle over her notes, talking through the concepts covered in class and the relevant homework problems. As you’ve always suspected, Beatrice has a pretty decent grasp of the material, she just second-guesses herself so much that she often ends up talking herself out of the right answer. You encourage her with warm smiles and the occasional touch of her hand, which she always reacts to with a slight blush, and give your best explanations to these concepts that {if ChemStudyCount > 1} are almost second nature to you. {else} you’re quite comfortable with. {endif} Two hours go by in the blink of an eye, and you realise that you’ve covered the lion's share of material in the class.

“Yeah, so that’s the Born-Oppenheimer approximation,” you say. “Just treat the wave functions as separable and you’ll have the right answer, nine times out of ten.”

“But when they do interact…” Beatrice says, scrunching up her face, trying to work it out in her head.

“It gets really complicated,” you laugh. “Even I’m not sure how to fully work it out.”

“Okay,” she says, looking relieved. “If you don’t know it, then I definitely don’t need to.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you chide, packing up your stuff. “You know just about as much as me, when it comes to this class!”

“No, no way,” she laughs, shaking her head. She quickly tidies up, and then, just as she’s throwing out her empty plastic cup, she looks back at you. “Hey! You said you’d tell me what you thought about the drink when we’re done studying. We’re done studying now.”

“You’re right,” you smile. “I liked the drink, but it left me wondering something about it.”

“What?” she asks, tilting her head aside.

You gesture for her to come closer, and she does, coming up close so that her head is almost resting on her shoulder, the sunlight casting her face aglow. You brush a lock of her brunette hair aside, and then whisper into her ear: “How would it make your lips taste?”

She gasps, looking up at you, and you meet her lips as she tilts her head up, a brief kiss that has her grabbing on to your torso, and she gasps again, her face burning in contrast to the dark blue of her blinking eyes.

“How was it?” you ask. {if Beatrice > 20} “Better than last time?” {endif}

“Guh…” she sorta responds. “I mean… Good.”

“It tasted great,” you smile, taking her hand and leading her out of the cafe. “You should keep ordering the things you like. It suits you.”

Beatrice nods a little too eagerly at that, holding your hand tight until you have to part ways at an intersection.

“Could you… could I get another kiss?” she asks timidly, barely able to meet your eye.

You laugh, and wrap your arms around her, giving her a deeper kiss this time, one that lasts a good couple seconds, enough time for a bit of tongue to meet tongue and for the throats of passersby to be cleared. The two of you break away, stumbling a bit, and Beatrice puts a hand over her chest.

“I’ll see you!” she says, and then she walks quickly away, leaving you chuckling and appreciating her retreating form.

Beatrice +20